


Naughty Cuisine

by Beezarre (Dibee)



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, French, The ending is cheesy because I couldn't help it, a wild Raf and Fletch appear in the background, no knowledge of French necessary, the rest is full of full-on flirting barely veiled dirty talk and innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dibee/pseuds/Beezarre
Summary: Bernie and Serena switch to French during their break so they can discuss their evening plans without being overheard. Their more than daring conversation is interrupted by the resident light-footed Swede.





	Naughty Cuisine

**Author's Note:**

> Encouraged by the kudos and lovely comments on my first French-filled adventure (thank you all!) I come back with more French, and a higher rating.  
> Again, you don't need to understand French to read this, it's just a plus!

“Mademoiselle Campbell.”

“Mademoiselle Wolfe.”

“On s’accorde une petite pause ?” Bernie’s eyes twinkled, hinting at what she’d love to do during that break. Serena blushed ever so slightly.

“Peut-être même une grande !” Serena replied, stepping closer. She would sure need a bigger break than usual. Bernie looking at her that way, thinking of her that way, was not conductive to serious work.

“Des idées pour ce soir ?” Bernie asked.

“Bernie…” Serena shushed her, pointing at Raf and Fletch who were conveniently having a quiet chat nearby.

“Tu sais pertinemment qu’ils ne parlent pas un mot de Français.” Bernie coaxed her with a slight grin. “Cuisine ?” She asked. Serena nodded while shooting the boys a look. That word was too transparent for her liking.

“Tu es plus aventureuse que ça d’habitude.” Bernie pointed out smugly, taking a step back to sit on the desk, hands in her pockets. Serena was indeed adventurous, but although flirting was second nature for her, this made her feel self-conscious.

“D’accord pour la cuisine, mais après le repas.” Serena replied. She had to insist on sex _after_ dinner, they had made a mess the previous time, unable to keep their hands off each other.

“Et pourquoi pas avant ?” Bernie asked, pouting. Why not beforehand, wasn’t it supposed to whet the appetite?

“Tu crois vraiment qu’une fois qu’on aura commencé…” Serena’s sentence trailed off. She knew full well that the only eating that would get done would have nothing to do with food. She stepped forward into Bernie’s space, practically between her legs, with her hands on Bernie’s knees. Bernie reached out for her waist, pulling her closer. Serena hoped there wouldn’t be an emergency any time soon, because that might prove to be a slightly compromising position. Bernie smirked. She was trying and failing to translate eating out as a double entendre.

“On peut manger ailleurs, avant, pour éviter la tentation.” Bernie suggested with a sulky voice, hoping Serena would get the message.

Serena wasn’t convinced that eating out was… Oh god, of course, she realised and blushed heavily under Bernie’s darkening stare. It sure wouldn’t really help resisting any kind of temptation.

Bernie was really good at playing innocent while wrecking her brain in the most deliciously infuriating manner. Meetings had become hellish, especially if they were seated side by side. Be it her foot, a wandering hand, whispers or naughty notes passed under the guise of serious notes with Bernie’s fingers brushing her arms and lingering more than was strictly necessary, there was no escaping her attempts to distract her. No one had ever mentioned it, but she was sure Hanssen was on to them.

Bernie gently tugged at the bottom of Serena’s blouse to bring her somewhat closer. She noticed Serena’s warning look. How had she put it last time? Never play with your food. Well, she sure loved her well done

“Canapé?” Bernie suggested, raising an eyebrow. Serena did a double take. She had _nothing_ against finger food, or her more than comfortable sofa, but Bernie’s back hadn’t been that happy when they’d fallen off halfway through a particularly heated make out session. She hadn’t said no to a massage though, which, as usual, had degenerated into something a little less NHS-approved.

“Sinon, on peut vérifier si la porte de ton placard est bien fermée.” Bernie said with a side grin. Serena rolled her eyes. She was sure they didn’t actually need to check whether her closet door was well and truly closed. Bernie all but dragged her out of it after all. Well, it was her own fault, but she managed to get Bernie to ‘apologise’ for it every time and wasn’t about to stop!

“Pas envie d’explorer Narnia?” Serena teased. She was fairly sure there wasn’t a lost kingdom at the back of any closet or wardrobe in her house, but it didn’t hurt to check.

“Je suis sûre que tu te rappelles de ce qui s’est passé la dernière fois avec la bibliothèque.” Bernie winced in recollection. The last time they had tried their luck against the bookcases had lead to quite a few bruises that were entirely accidental. No amount of French kissing had helped muffle the little cries of pain as some large volumes had come down around them, like a holy rain on a very unholy sight.

“Je n’ai pas encore fini de tout cataloguer.” Serena replied, inching even closer to Bernie, her hands on Bernie’s hips. She still had so much to catalogue. “Encore tellement de lignes à lire.” Still so many lines to read. Bernie’s scars, curves, constellations of freckles, Bernie wasn’t one for straight lines. Serena laughed at the thought and Bernie rested her forehead against hers.

“Quoi?” She asked inquisitively.

“Rien.” Serena smiled. Bernie shook her head.

“Tu sais que je peux te faire parler.” You know I can make you talk, she said in a low, sultry voice that made Serena shiver. She nodded.

“Comment tu veux t’y prendre?” Serena asked. How would she go about doing that exactly?

“Comment je veux te prendre.” Bernie corrected her. How she wanted to _take_ her. Serena blushed but resisted the urge of checking on their loitering colleagues.

“J’aimais bien l’idée de la cuisine.” Bernie started, she was back on the kitchen idea to start with. “La table.” She kept going. “Plusieurs fois.” She grinned. Several times. “Peut-être le plan de travail.” She mused. The counter might be an idea. “Et je n’ai rien contre finir la nuit sur le canapé.” She grinned. She didn’t mind spending the night on the couch, as long as they were together, of course.

Serena was about to reply something, hoping to counter the blush on her cheeks somewhat when she felt Bernie tense a bit, her grasp on her waist holding her a bit tighter. Serena looked at her, she was biting her lip.

“Quand vous aurez fini, j’aurai besoin de vos rapports trimestriels.” Hanssen was at the door, looking annoyed and embarrassed in equal measure. They still hadn’t stepped away from one another, Serena merely looking over her shoulder. They were too stunned to answer, and he was gone before they had time to say anything.

“Did he just…” “Can you believe that…?” They said at the same time before dissolving into giggles. Of course Hanssen spoke French. He made it sound a lot less sexy than Serena though, Bernie thought.

“Once you’re done, I’ll need your quarterly reports.” Bernie mocked him in English, making Serena laugh.

“We better get back to work.” Serena sighed, not making the slightest attempt to move away.

Bernie concluded their conversation by reminding her that, in French as in English, tongue could mean two different things. They ‘talked’ for a while, but Serena didn’t try to stop her. She was already looking forward to their evening. She knew she would have to face Henrik before that, but to hell with him. They were on their break, he had been the one creeping up on them.

Serena made a side note to buy him and Bernie louder shoes for Christmas. The man was almost as infuriating as her lover was in his ghost-like abilities. She didn’t mind Bernie as much though, although she had a tendency to innocently drop her hands in not so innocent places that made it hard to keep a straight face, although Serena had given up on all pretense a while back. That’s what she liked about French, gai meant happy, and she most definitely was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> If you too have caught the 'Bernie speaks French!!!' bug, don't hesitate to contact me to talk about/in French!


End file.
